Qwark gently sets the two of them down, and the applause subsides. "Well, what a party this was, huh? Haven't seen a mess like this since my high school homecoming! Man, those dorm parties could get pretty wild. What about you guys? Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"I do recall attending quite a few parties, but not many that ended up this dangerous," Clank offers.

"I have no idea what a high school homecoming is like, my friend," Nova shrugs with a grin. "But I assume no."

Courtney Gears is one of the last robots to fully reboot, and she groans as she's met with a splitting headache. As she rubs her cheek, she notices that there's a pretty sizable dent on the left side of her face.

Distracted from her conversation by the sound, Nova turns towards its source. "Ha, nice." Admiring her footwork, she offers the pop star a toothy grin, and an obscene hand gesture.

"What was that, Nova?"

"Oh, nothing important, Clank," the markazian replies, lowering her hand. "I was just thinking how lucky we are that all of the guests are safe from those awful mercenaries." She winks back at Gears, returning the favor from earlier that night.

With that one act, yellow optics brighten with rage. The fembot composes herself, and leaves the premises. Can't have the dent showing up on camera, anyway.

The party continues on for a while, but with a completely different energy than before. The food and drink tables are pushed to the edges of the room, and the mics and speakers from the announcement are connected to a laptop. More upbeat tunes are played, clashing with the dirtied formal attire the guests currently wear. The cleared space is filled completely, as all parties happily dance to their heart's content.

Clank is taken aback to see that Nova, who was previously too nervous to join in, even suggests a song to play. It's an instrumental piece, one that he's heard once before.

It was a very long time ago, a traditional Quantos tune that has withstood the test of time. That day, he and Ratchet visited to return the Zoni vessel the lombax had borrowed. The two of them shared their exploits with the fongoids of that planet, informing them of their victory against Nefarious and the news that the Great Clock was safe.

The village threw them a grand celebration that day, and the main event was a special dance that nearly every villager took part in. Asking the elders what it meant taught Clank that it's a ceremony. It's used to celebrate victory in times of great struggle, as well as manifest good luck for the future.

It's that very dance that he sees Nova recreate in near perfect detail, a dance she's likely known nearly all her life. With a smile, she reaches for Qwark's hand and pulls him in to join her. She picks out other guests, adding them to the circle she's begun to trace into the floor. They break off into pairs, bouncing between partners. A good dozen people are in the dance now, and Clank smiles at the sight. The little warbot is happy to simply watch, but his companion won't have that.

Nova takes his hand, and pulls him into the center of the circle. Mirroring her moves, Clank happily dances with her. A warmth fills his very soul, knowing the context for the circle's center. It's a place usually reserved for the village elder or high priestess, a point used to draw energy from the crowd and focus it. In a ritualistic context, it's the point used to pray to the Zoni for whatever is needed at the time. In times of causal celebration, it's used to honor whoever is brought to the center.

What matters most to Clank is that at this moment, Nova looks truly happy. She's laughing, swinging her hips, and clapping to the beat without a worry in the world despite what the universe has thrown her way.

Meanwhile…

Metallic doors hiss open, and Saros steps into Nefarious' space station. The villain's troops patrol the area, muttering to each other about their tasks, their leader, or local gossip amongst themselves. His footsteps are light, focused, and he remains silent as one of the minions tries in vain to speak with him.

The markazian pulls out a keycard with Nefarious' logo in it, tapping the object against the tiny screen at the elevator's door. As the space opens up and he steps inside, the space station's AI chimes in. "Welcome back, Minion. Which floor would you like to visit?"

"The 6th floor," is his flat response.

"Very well." The small pod rises, granting the markazian a grand view of the doctor's base from beyond the glass. There's a twinge of worry as he watches hundreds of baddies work below him, the sounds of such activity echoing throughout the space. Those same metal goons aren't hostile now, but wouldn't hesitate to end Nova or Clank. Or him, if he dared to back out now.

"This is what's best for Nova," he tells himself. But there's still a lingering question, one that comes to mind when he thinks of her. How defeated she seemed during their date, or the second she saw his face in the arena. That look of shock, of near horror, that she wore when she asked what Nefarious did to him.

Then there's the moment she desperately shook Clank, her voice nearly cracking as she begged him to wake up. The young man can't help but wonder: What if it's not what's best?

Before he can put more thought into the question, something scratches at his earring and distracts him from his thoughts. He thinks instead of the footage Nefarious showed him, the nerve Clank must have to push a stranger into replacing his old partner. "No. It doesn't matter. The past is gone, and this'll grant her a future of her own. He promised."

Saros digs into his storage, pulling out the plastic bag with the bloodied knife. "The doc promised me he'd save you from yourself." Right?

Any hesitation is brought to a halt as the elevator stops. Stepping into the hall, Saros counts the rooms to pass the time, turning around a corner and wondering where the budget for a city-sized space station comes from. The path eventually leads the young man directly into Nefarious' main office. "I have the sample you asked for."

Upon hearing the thunk of said sample hitting the desk, the villain pauses the Destructapalooza footage on his monitors. "Excellent. Come, take a seat." As his newest recruit does so, Nefarious slowly turns his chair to face him directly. "Tell me how tonight went, and spare no details."

"I stayed out of the party itself before the EMP, in case Nova noticed me before it was time. But I did get to see a bit of the action through the windows, though," Saros clarifies. "Plenty of music, and more than enough food considering the ratio of organic to robotic guests. There was a small press crew, and some organic reporters that I'm sure will fill in the details there. The whole Q-Force thing went by without a hitch, so nothing particularly interesting there. Nothing you'd need, I would think."

"I'll be the judge of what I find useful," Nefarious interrupts. "And what of the girl, and Clank?"

"The girl has a name," the organic huffs. "Nova seemed happy, made friends. That little 'Q' pin means a lot to her, I think. Probably gives her some sense of belonging. She didn't seem to like Courtney Gears though. Why, I'm not sure. Didn't see much of that, but she seemed tense around her."

The idea makes the villainous doctor sit up a little straighter. "She dislikes Courtney Gears? Interesting. Gears and Ratchet fought, back when I was working on the Biobliterator."

"You think there's a correlation?"

Nefarious waves him off. "Keep talking, skip to the EMP. The last thing my camera feed picked up was the girl staring at it like some sort of cornered rat!" The very idea brings a smile to his face.

"She threw herself over Clank, probably thinking the pod was going to explode."

His neck snaps to Saros' gaze, and he blinks to verify that he heard that correctly. "She what?"

"When I showed myself, I saw her begging him to wake up. The way she looked at me...she thought you killed him."

The answer sparks his interest, and Nefarious leans in closer to hear more. His claws are brought together, and his elbows tap the wooden table. "What was her reaction? Describe it."

Saros stares into the floor, his voice low as he recalls the scene. "I'd never seen her angrier. She pretty much told me that if he was gone, I'd better start running."

"Better start running, huh?" Crimson optics narrow as he leans back, and a claw begins to tap against his chin plating as the doctor gathers his thoughts. Her sudden parlor trick in the Destructapalooza footage, plus the hostility towards Gears and that dramatic declaration...The tapping stops. "I don't believe this," the villain says through a wicked grin.

It's like the best Lance and Janice episode Nefarious could possibly ask for.

"The girl's fallen in love with him. Full on, head over heels, in love!" Nefarious bursts into laughter, the sound filling the room and echoing across the halls. "This is too much! She gets plucked out of the sky by her past life's backpack, and she falls in love with him! Oh, that's rich!"

Saros' eyes widen at his boss' reaction, the pieces falling into place. Shock turns into disappointment, his mind reeling back to their past encounters. "She told me it's because she wasn't ready for a commitment. I thought that was because of the hero thing, but..."

Nefarious' laughter stops. "Really now?" He leans in close enough that Saros' breath fogs his chin slightly. "Seems to me like she never really cared for you, huh? She was never going to give you the 'yes' you wanted. Don't forget: I can change that." Pulling himself away, the doctor smirks down to the organic. He hums to himself in a moment of reflection, then closes the video popup on his computer screen. "You're dismissed for the day."

"Wait, what? That's really all you needed me for, doc?"

"All I needed from you was that sample, and a testimony of what happened. You only went out today because I couldn't be there myself without getting fried."

"Fine," he scoffs, pushing his chair back and turning to leave. Before he does, he hesitates, wanting to ask the one burning question on his mind. "But first, why even go through this trouble with an EMP anyway? Couldn't you have just gone with your Goons, or sent your own troops? You'd have kept the footage that way, if knowing what happened is that important for research."

"I had a better question in mind: 'What will the copy do without weapons? Without Clank?'"

"Nova," Saros insists.

"Don't correct me, squishy, I'm in too good of a mood to annihilate you now. When I have your next mission, I'll contact you. Until then, you're dismissed."

Saros narrows his eyes at him, but ultimately complies, and the door hisses shut behind him. As soon as the markazian is out of earshot, the doctor pulls up the information again. "What a sucker. Lawrence! Bring me my notes."

The butler already has the thick stack of papers in hand, and gives them to his boss. "Here you go, sir."

A pen is raised to Nova's section. Dislikes Gears. Jealousy, or something more subconscious? More info needed. Nefarious then skims through the pages, stopping at Saros' section and looking through those notes. The phrase 'Romantic Interest?' is written under his tab, but Nefarious crosses it out.

There's a subtle tick as the pen taps against his glass dome. "I'll have to change tactics now...It's almost a shame that she's not focused on the little simp at all, other than as a plain rival. I had this grand scheme of turning lovers against each other. Oh, the scene would have been perfect! But this...this is so much better!"

"Are you suggesting that we drop Saros entirely?"

"No, not at all," the doctor answers. "The boy still believes that I'm some grand savior, and that she's lost her mind. The fact that he's not dead right now means that she still cares, at least to some extent." Nefarious presses a button on his console, and a small capsule appears. He opens the plastic bag, placing the bloodied knife inside. Lawrence immediately offers a disinfectant wipe, assuming correctly that his employer would use it after touching the item.

Crimson eyes lock onto the canister, as claws lift it towards his face. "If that girl held this knife, that means she had the opportunity to critically injure or kill him and chose not to. We can still use that." The item is placed into a slot, and the computer begins its scans.

"You certainly have convinced him well, sir," Lawrence adds. "He truly believes that you know how to 'save' her."

"He doesn't need to know that I have no idea what she is or how this works, which suits me just fine. I'm a man of science, and I'll know soon enough anyway."

"I do wonder what traits she could have picked up from the energy surge. Nova seems fiercely protective of her loved ones; a trait that predates her meeting Clank, even," Lawrence notes.

Nefarious scoffs at the suggestion. "What, her pathetic attempt to scare me off with a glowing toothpick? She totally choked! It's no fun to fight a hero with no guts, you know."

"Of course. One must be worth fighting, I suppose." The butler smiles, enjoying his master's enthusiasm in his craft.